A Different Kind of Game
by Hermione-2113
Summary: Post-ep to 8:15, 'It's All In Your Head'. What happened after Abby went back to Luka's apartment?


"Please? For me. I need you...they're kicking my ass at Pictionary," Luka finished, a slight chuckle in his voice. A smile crept across Abby's face, and she allowed him to pull her inside.  
  
A moment later, she stopped dead, mouth falling open as she gaped at the scene before her. She whirled, muttering under her breath to Luka, "You call that Pictionary?"  
  
"It's close," he replied, unrepentant.  
  
Abby rolled her eyes. "Not close enough. You knew I'd leave if you told me what was going on. You know I hate...that. I've said it before."  
  
"And I don't believe you," Luka countered, affecting a pout. "No one hates Monopoly." She stood stoically, and he added, "They *are* beating me..."  
  
Abby sighed, tossing her bag and jacket across a chair already laden with coats, mock-scowling at him. "You lured me here under false pretences, and I will sabotage you on purpose."  
  
He smiled, and she was sure she saw a note of relief on his face. "Thank you." Before she could question him, the playful grin was back once more, and he turned her around to face the others. "Guys, this is Abby. Abby, you've met Petra." The blonde who'd met her at the door waved slightly. A taller man lounging at her side was Jake, and opposite them was Andre.  
  
Luka settled to the floor, and Abby perched herself on a beanbag beside him, the overall good mood catching up to her. Mercifully, though her bruises got a few curious looks, but no one commented.  
  
"We're the horse, Abby," Luka added, tapping the small piece, which lounged mournfully on the 'jail' space.  
  
"Hey, no fair ganging up. You wouldn't let Petra help me," Jake protested.  
  
"That's because you are a fish at this game," Luka shot back, earning himself puzzled looks all around. "What?"  
  
"Y-you mean 'shark', Luka," Abby finally put in, barely able to contain her laughter. It was infectious, and soon the whole group was roaring. He only smiled quickly at her, bringing back a rush of memories. Try as she might, she'd never been able to figure out whether his language mix-ups were honest mistakes or a private joke between them - and given that Luka would never say a word on the subject, she suspected it was the latter.  
  
"All right, all right, you win," Jake allowed, getting his mirth under control. "Abby can help you. You certainly need it."  
  
And he did, Abby had to admit. Only two fifties, plus a few fives and ones, were left of Luka's money pile, and the only full set he had was the two purple properties, topped with a lone house. The mortgaged railroad wasn't likely to help them much, nor was the single light blue.  
  
Jake, on the other hand, was plainly winning. He had three five-hundreds, hotels on orange and green, Boardwalk, and a sharp eye on Park Place, which was still in the bank. Andre was just behind him with three railroads and four houses on each yellow property, and Petra was doing respectably well with the light purples.  
  
Things didn't change much for their side - Luka and Abby made it out of 'jail' only to land on one of Andre's railroads. They managed to placate him be giving him the one he needed to complete the set, but their doom was sealed two turns later, when the hapless horse landed on the highest green property.  
  
Luka grumbled good-naturedly as he forked over his remaining assets to Jake, pretending to scowl at Abby. "I guess you did sabotage me."  
  
"Hey, don't blame me," she smirked, leaning against his shoulder. The shock of the contact nearly overtook her, but she kept it from showing in her voice. "You were losing before I came in."  
  
"No loyalty," he complained softly, tilting his head to the side so it rested atop hers. Surprise mingled with pleasure filled her, both at the familiarity of that pose and the warmth in his voice.  
  
The other three exchanged pointed glances as they went on with the game. Abby only half-watched them, memories and sensations weaving a blanket around her as she relaxed in Luka's light hold.  
  
Jake triumphed over Andre in short order; Petra held him off for a bit longer, but succumbed in the end.  
  
"You're right, Luka, he is a 'fish'," the blonde groused, handing her pile of money to her gloating friend. She seemed about to declare a rematch, but Abby yawned despite herself. Luka immediately faked a far larger one, glancing at his watch. "It's late."  
  
The others took the hint, standing and gathering their coats. "It was nice meeting you, Abby," Petra said with a smile, echoed by Jake and Andre.  
  
"Same here," Abby replied, with a sincerity that surprised her slightly; she didn't really have many friends outside the hospital, but she had the feeling she'd gained three tonight.  
  
After the door was closed, Luka turned back to her, eyes searching hers. "How are you doing?"  
  
"I'm fine, really," she began, but his steady regard made it obvious he wasn't falling for it. She deflated slightly. "Brian's out. They're not prosecuting him. Some legal thing. I...I saw him as I was going back to my apartment, and I just couldn't..." a shudder ripped through her, and instantly she was encircled in Luka's arms. Something about their strong warmth cracked her resolve as not even that meeting with the lawyer had, and she felt tears trickling down her face.  
  
He held her until her quiet sobs died off, then produced a handkerchief. She took it gladly, scrubbing her wet cheeks forcefully. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, leaning back against him. "I've..."  
  
He cut her off. "You have," he corrected with quiet intensity, "Nothing to be sorry for."  
  
"Just pretty much wrecking your party and your night -"  
  
"Abby. It would have wrecked my night to know that you were alone with him on the loose." Something in his voice made her look up; his eyes were faraway and hard as steel. "Nothing is more important than him never touching you again."  
  
She tried to protest again, but she was just too tired, emotionally as well as physically. Gently, he tried to guide her towards the small bedroom, but she planted her feet. "Abby, come on. You need a good rest. I'll be fine on the couch."  
  
Stubbornly, Abby shook her head. She could see Luka gathering himself for an argument, but she ignored him, crossing to the sofa and stretching out. He sighed above her, and a few minutes later she felt a soft pillow slipped under her head, a warm flannel blanket tucked around her slight form. Luka perched on the edge of the couch for a moment, touching her cheek gently. "Sleep well," he murmured, rising to go.  
  
It took all her willpower not to take his hand, ask him to stay for a minute longer. "Night, Luka," she whispered instead, watching him until he turned off the light. 


End file.
